


On The Importance Of Hiring Effective Underlings

by connanro-chan (noseybookworm)



Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, DCU (Comics)
Genre: Crack, Gen, Humor, Swearing, a very brief reference to #letredrobinsleep because honestly that's the best thing i have created, honestly this is just.........ridiculous
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-16
Updated: 2017-09-16
Packaged: 2018-12-30 15:29:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 654
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12111735
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/noseybookworm/pseuds/connanro-chan
Summary: Or: In Which Several Upstanding Gotham Criminals Learn a Lesson on Entanglements With Bats.





	On The Importance Of Hiring Effective Underlings

**Author's Note:**

> i'm very sorry to those of you who followed me expecting serious content. this is not serious content. this is me procrastinating two very important essays that i have due in less than a week. you have my sincerest apologies.
> 
> (((but i had fun writing it and isn't that what _really_ matters?)))

Steve McDuff, Two-Face henchperson and overseer extraordinaire, was standing in the middle of the crummy back-up apartment, scowling at a scrambled list of dealers when Thug No. 11 came in, looking shameful and embarrassed. McDuff transferred his scowl from the list to the underling.

“Well?” he demanded raspily. God, he really needed to quit smoking. “Report.”

“Um,” the underling said, looking even more ashamed. He cringed, pulling his head lower into his grimy trench coat collar. “Well. Ya know how Red Hood’s been messing with ‘r operations?” He fumbled a bit over the word _operations_ , at which McDuff scoffed. Underlings these days. Probably didn’t even graduate highschool. Back in _his_ day--but he digressed.

“So?” he said. How hard would it be for this man to get to the point?

“Um. Well. We decided to uh, ambush him. Stop him from screwin’ us over again, y’know. But he uh. Got away.” He punctuated this speech with a downward glance, an awkward rub of the head.

Underlings these days, McDuff thought again, before stopping short. Wait, what?

“You _what_?” he all but yelled at the underling, who flinched, and turned an unnatural shade of grey.

“We tried to kill him?” Thug No. 11 squeaked.

“You _fucking dimwit_ ,” McDuff bellowed. “How many times have I told you not to mess with the Hood? He’s a _fucking Bat_.”

The thug cowered. McDuff pulled at his hair, angrily, dropping the list of dealers (which needed to be properly organized and sent to goddamn Two-Face by the next morning) in the process.

“You _idiot_ ,” he shrieked. “Two-Face is gonna have your fuckin’ head when he finds out about this, and then he’s gonna have my head, and why? _Because some fucking underling couldn’t tell that Hood has a big-ass bat on his chest!”_

Things might have come to blows at that moment, had not their conversation been interrupted by a colossal smash as the lights went out and a large black something crashed through the skylights. The remaining light from the flickering street lights and ambient light pollution was enough to illuminate the shadow of an obviously infuriated Batman.

McDuff was wrong. Two-Face wouldn’t get a chance to flip his stupid coin. Batman was probably going to kill him first.

There was a soft thump as the weak-hearted Thug No. 11 passed out, collapsing to the floor. The lights flickered back on again as the back door banged open, revealing a maliciously cheerful Nightwing and several unconscious thugs. Thugs No. 4 and 9 tried to aim their guns at him, but he knocked them both over the head with his short metal stick-things. Batman punched out Thug No. 13, who had been attempting to sneak up on him, without even turning around.

“Well, what have we here?” said Nightwing, in a horrible, upbeat tone that McDuff knew boded ill. How did he _always_ manage to get the most _incompetent_ underlings in the whole of Gotham? He must be cursed. This happened last time, too, when some bright thug decided that, hey, surely no one would miss Red Robin if someone attempted to off him when he was napping on a rooftop? Right?

Wrong. McDuff had spent months more bandage than man after that, which made his already awful prison experience worse.

He’d just gotten out, for God’s sake. Was there no mercy in this universe?

Batman grunted. “I’d say a month in a hospital.” His voice was more terrifying than McDuff remembered.

“P-please,” he stuttered, belatedly attempting to back away from the massive and suddenly _very close_ vigilante. Nightwing appeared from behind him and put a very casual arm around his neck. McDuff shuddered at the contact.

“Oh no,” Nightwing said lightly. “I’d say at _least_ two. Probably more.”

Batman smirked.

McDuff trembled with fear.

Batman cracked his knuckles menacingly. “I have to agree, Nightwing,” he said grimly, and that’s when McDuff knew he was well and truly fucked.


End file.
